


Runaways

by nereidee (aurasama)



Series: Frictional October 2018 challenge [4]
Category: Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-30 01:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16276160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurasama/pseuds/nereidee
Summary: Not even the amnesia mixture could wipe away Daniel's guilt over what he did to the Zimmermann girl, Elise. Set during the events of the game.Written for the Frictional October challenge on Tumblr, based on the prompt 'escape'.





	Runaways

The door slammed shut behind Daniel and he slid on the floor, knees giving out from exhaustion. He knew he couldn't afford to make a sound but his breathing only grew more erratic the harder he tried to suppress it, and for a while all he could hear were the sounds of his own laboured breath.  
  
And the ringing. That sickening ringing sound that didn't seem to go away and made the headache so much worse.  
  
A clattering noise of something falling over behind the door made him start, much too soon followed by a low growl. _No. Not again._ Daniel clamped a hand over his mouth, teeth digging into his lower lip from the effort of keeping quiet. He could taste blood. He trembled all over as the creature let out another growl, closer than before, and there was nothing he could do to stop the tears streaming down his face.  
  
All he had were unclear, disconnected images and pieces of conversation from a life he couldn't recall having lived. Sometimes there were feelings and sensations that came unexpectedly, quite unrelated to what he was doing or thinking at the moment. Nothing that he could really call a sense of self. But he could feel how tired his body was, how weak; every time his legs failed and the only thing that made him carry on was sheer terror, he wondered if it wasn't a sign that he shouldn't even be alive. Perhaps he should have died long ago already. Perhaps this was his punishment.  
  
He doused the lantern and let the tears come unhindered, swallowing the noises that tried to escape him. Escape. What a laughable word. There was no escape. Whatever he – his former self, or whatever he wanted to call it – had done, it refused to let him go.  
  
Someone screamed.  
  
' _Let me go!'_  
  
Daniel held the hand more tightly over his mouth, but it was in vain. It wasn't him, it was the girl in the blue dress, the runaway. She screamed again. __  
  
The arm held tightly in his grip trashed and struggled, a feeble attempt, he was stronger than her, much stronger, he could so easily―  
  
_'_ _Please, l_ _et me go! I won't tell anyone, I swear!'_  
  
―her ripped Sunday dress, blue fabric and lace soaking up the redness, spreading, the flowers on her Sunday dress―  
  
She cried, face contorted. How he hated it when they cried.  
  
―tender flesh under his fingers, breaking tendons, bone, her neck so slim that his hands easily wound around it, a perfect fit.  
  
Daniel retched, the headache twisting his vision. “No,” he breathed. A terrible chill ran up his spine and though the images didn't make sense, though he couldn't piece them together, he was certain that this was something that should not be revisited – something he should never, ever remember again. Behind the door the creature lumbered past, its footsteps heavy, and the reek of rotting flesh permeated even through the door.  
  
He tasted the tang of iron in his mouth, his lip now bleeding profusely. He wanted to spit it out. Sticky, disgusting, her blood on his hands and―  
  
No, no, don't think about it, don't think about it...  
  
_'_ _Please, no_ _!'_  
  
―blood all over his fingers, her hair, pieces of her skull on the floor, sharp, sharp, white and red.  
  
“I'm sorry,” Daniel choked out, and the voice in his head echoed him. A nonsensical litany of _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I_ _'_ _m sorry,_ the words growing more and more incoherent; the hysterical pitch that rendered his own voice almost unrecognisable. It drowned out everything except the dreadful weight in his arms, and he cried his regret and shame into her bloodied hair.  
  
Her body, so light in his cradling arms.


End file.
